Undertow
by Silent Dirge
Summary: Steve tries to figure out his thoughts about Pony. Slash, boyboy. Bit of lime.
1. Steve's View

Undertow.  
  
Rated: PG-13 for limey things.  
  
RIVAL SLASH. From Steve's point of view. Shounen-ai, slash, boy/boy, yaoi, whatever. Don't read if you don't like that stuff. And yeah, it's an odd pairing. I'm just experimenting around; don't mind me.  
  
Fic's Theme Song: "Undertow" by Tool.  
  
Enjoy?  
  
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I've been struck dumb by a voice that  
  
Speaks from the deep  
  
Beneath the cold black water.  
  
It's twice as clear as heaven,  
  
And twice as loud as reason.  
  
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You think you're so great.  
  
Brains and good looks. Both of the best traits from both brothers. You have Darry's wisdom, and Sodapop's handsome face. It's because of you that I can't be happy with Sodapop. It's because of you that I wish I'd loved Soda instead.  
  
Why you. Why you.  
  
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It's deep and rich like silt on a riverbed  
  
And just as undisturbing.  
  
The currents mouth below me, opens up around me.  
  
Suggests and beckons all while swallowing.  
  
It surrounds and drowns and sweeps me away.  
  
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I hate you. You tag along everywhere. You take up all of Soda's attention, and leave me forgotten. I though I was in love with him; the blonde beauty. He was mine. But you decided to stick that cute little nose of yours into it. Like you always do.  
  
Cute? Why do I wanna call you "cute"? I'm supposed to hate you. Loathe you. Glare and cuss at you.  
  
Why is it I dream about you at night? Your gentle face, forest-green eyes flecked with stoney grey, soft, smooth vanilla skin. You below me, moaning and whimpering for me. Soft and warm...  
  
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But I'm so comfortable...Too comfortable.   
  
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Why do I dream about such things? You hate me, and I hate you. I'm supposed to wanna screw chicks, not my best friend's kid bro. I'm disgusted. Why can't you just disappear? Just die?  
  
Now I'm looking at you. Typical; your face buried in the white pages of a book. Unaware of my inner turmoil. My affections. My need to just touch you, feel you...  
  
Love you.  
  
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Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up  
  
Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up   
  
You're saturating me   
  
So how could I let this bring me   
  
Back to my knees again, again, again.  
  
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I thought, if I ever feel in love with another man, it would be Soda. Beautiful, charming, handsome Soda. Muscular and flirty. He's perfect. And you are not.  
  
But still, sitting here watching you, those thoughts come back. Your sharp, harsh moaning, grabbing at me, digging your nails into my back, wanting more and more. Never letting me stop. Me, never wanting to stop.  
  
I reach out, and you look up at me with furrowed brows. You think I wanna hit you; it's exactly what I wish I felt. Instead, I run my hardened, oil-stained hands through your soft red hair. You, stare at me in disbelief. I cannot believe it either.  
  
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Under for the third time.  
  
I've been baptized by your voice.  
  
It screams from deep beneath the endless water.  
  
And it's half as high as heaven  
  
And half as clear as reason.  
  
It's cold and black like silt on the riverbed.  
  
But I'm so comfortable.  
  
Far too comfortable.  
  
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I cannot control it anymore. Even though your brother is only in the next room over, I grab your hair hard and pull you towards me. You punch me hard, trying to get away. Struggle, my enemy. Struggle. That's what I want. You to hate me.  
  
Because, even as I kiss you, tongue pushing into your mouth, invading you, I hate you. Loathe you. Want you to disappear. Lie beneath me and moan. Touch me. Let me be inside of you.  
  
You bite my lower lip, making me bleed. That's what I want. Hate me. Hurt me. Show me I'm wrong.  
  
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Why don't you kill me,  
  
I'm weak and numb and insignificant,  
  
And I'm back on my knees.  
  
Lost in euphoria.  
  
I'm back down. I'm in the undertow.  
  
I'm helpless and awake in the undertow.  
  
I'll die within your undertow.  
  
It seems there's no other way out of this undertow.  
  
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Soda can't hear us anymore, sealed away in the bedroom. Hate me. Hit me harder. I want to hate you back. It only makes me want you even more.  
  
You think you're so great.  
  
Why you. Why you...  
  
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Yeah, I guess I'm just being weird. Tell me if you hated it, liked it, or are indifferent to such weird writing.  
  
Maybe I'll write more sometime. Peace. 


	2. Pony's View

Ah yes, my lovely reviewers. Thank you so much for egging me on; I was planning to make this a one-shot. And no, no more songfics. I didn't like the way it turned out at all. Ugh.  
  
PG-13 for (wonderful) limey stuff.   
  
From Steve's point of view, to Pony's. This one will be more descriptive. Booya.  
  
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Why are you looking at me like that? Those hard, angry brown eyes on me. You're just glarin' like you always are. I know it. You wanna strangle me, but you can't. I'm thankful Sodapop's so close when I'm around you. I'd hate to see what you'd do to me when we're alone...  
  
I hate you, you know that? I'm not what you think; but you don't care. Your head's too far up your ass to notice, or even think again. I don't tag along; I come because Soda wants me to. Because he loves me. I'm amazed you know what love is. If you got any worse, you'd be another Dallas Winston.  
  
Maybe if I look into my book, I can block you out. Your presence makes me uneasy; like something terrible is gonna happen. So I ignore you. I focus on the printed letters before me, and Soda's chipper humming from the next room. You can't touch me, or hurt me while he's here.   
  
But...  
  
Why are you touching me? I thought the only time your skin would come in contact with mine was when your fist comes in contact with my body. But no...it's gentle. Your stroking my hair, feeling the red strands slide through your fingers. I can only stare in disbelief. What are you doing? Maybe I should go help Soda...  
  
Grabbing me before I can move again, you're kissing me. Taking away my first one. I punch you hard, pushing against you, trying to escape. You're too strong; my mouth is invaded by your tongue. I want to squeal, but am afraid you'll hurt me. So I bite you, tasting your blood. I know your grinning; and my insides turn cold. I thought you wanted me dead.  
  
You scoop me up, covering my mouth so I can't call to Soda for help. I always knew you were bad, Steve Randle; just not evil. Evil enough to take a boy's virginity away unwillingly.  
  
You pin me, ripping apart my clothes. Tasting me, and I can't scream for help. I'm trapped beneath you; scared and afraid. But you don't hurt me at all. Why?... You're carressing my face and body, making me shiver. I can't help but let you do as you please...maybe you, and this act, will make forget about...him...  
  
All I know is that you moaned my name every time. And that you made sure it didn't hurt.  
  
Why?...Do you love me?...  
  
Steve...  
  
Make me forget...  
  
About...him...everything...  
  
Please...  
  
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Yup. Probably not going any farther than this. And for all who are confused, the 'him' Pony is referring to is Johnny...and he's hoping Steve will make him forget Johnny by...uh...deflowering him.  
  
Geez, that was corny.  
  
I dunno. I'm just tired. Meep. 


End file.
